Fan Fiction

The Porcelain Heart 🐾
1. The Heart of the House Maggie Calloway didn’t have much left from her mother. A few old recipes written in cursive that curled like ivy, a faded photograph from a summer picnic, and one small porcelain heart—delicate as moonlight—painted with forget-me-nots. It sat on the mantel, catching sunlight in a way that made it glow faintly pink at dusk. Her mother had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday, saying, “When you feel lost, hold this. It’ll find you again.”
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
Look What the Cat Dragged In
Introduction Some stories scratch at your imagination long after the last page. “Look What the Cat Dragged In” is one of those sneaky tales that strolls into your thoughts like a stray feline, dropping something unexpected at your feet. It’s a story about secrets, timing, and the messy beauty of unfinished business—the kind of narrative that makes you think about how a single phrase can unravel an entire web of truth.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
The Silence of Ranjha
Not a day goes by in the village, whether young or old, men or women, that the name of Gunga is not mentioned, and there is no one, young or old, who does not visit Gunga at least once a day. Gunga is famous throughout the entire region because she has a large and famous shop selling Peew Masto in the village market, and Peew Masto is a daily necessity for everyone.
By shahkar jalal3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter
The Forgotten Drawer When Emma cleaned out her grandmother’s old desk, she hadn’t expected to find anything more than yellowed receipts and brittle photographs. The oak was scuffed, its drawers jammed from years of neglect.
By Hassan Jan3 months ago in Fiction
The Line Between Us
The ballroom had been stripped of its glitter. Where there were once chandeliers and champagne flutes, now hung banners stitched with crests of the divided provinces. The air was thick with the scent of old wine and newer suspicion. Everyone in that grand room knew why they’d come—to negotiate the peace after two years of quiet war—but no one could quite remember who had started it.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
The Truth According to Daniel
The first time I told the story, everyone believed me. Maybe it was because I told it with such conviction — the kind of certainty that only a man who’s either completely honest or dangerously deluded can pull off. I wasn’t sure which one I was at the time. Still not sure, if I’m being honest.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
The Compassless Voyage
The ocean stretched endlessly around the small sailboat, a vast sheet of dark glass rippled only by the wind’s whisper. Lena tightened her grip on the worn helm, the ropes creaking like old bones beneath her fingers. She had never planned to be here — not literally, not metaphorically. Yet here she was, somewhere between yesterday’s certainty and tomorrow’s unknown, sailing a borrowed boat across waters she didn’t know how to navigate.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
Letters From The Room That Doesn't Exist. AI-Generated.
Aarav had always been fascinated by old buildings, especially the abandoned Willowcrest Manor — a weather-beaten mansion at the edge of town, wrapped in vines like nature was trying to bury it. Locals said it was cursed, swallowed by time and sorrow.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
When Stars Fell to Earth. AI-Generated.
Lyra was a fairy of the deep wood, but her heart belonged to the forbidden world of humans. She didn't seek their treasures; she only craved their music. To the other fairies, human songs were chaos. To Lyra, they were the sound of longing.
By fairy girl3 months ago in Fiction
The Sound of Nothing
There should have been noise. The world outside should’ve been roaring—the clatter of dishes from Mrs. Darby’s diner, the screech of car tires along Main Street, the barking of that one beagle who hated mornings as much as Lena did. But that morning, there was nothing. No hum. No whisper. Just an empty, weighty silence that pressed against her chest like a held breath.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
THE PARALLEL TRANSMISSION
The Parallel Transmission When the message arrived, reality began to unravel. by Alex Mario The night was silent—too silent for a world stitched together by signals, motors, and the soft hiss of the cosmos. Wind swept over the Carpathian ridge and died against concrete, and inside the hilltop observatory the only sound was the hum of old equipment refusing to retire.
By Alex Mario3 months ago in Fiction
He Died in 1998—But He Just Liked My Post
He Died in 1998—But He Just Liked My Post Sometimes, the dead find new ways to say goodbye. It was a little after midnight when my phone buzzed.
By Muhammad Ilyas3 months ago in Fiction